


FeverBird

by MoonySideDown



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Damian has no chill as usual, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonySideDown/pseuds/MoonySideDown
Summary: Dick has experience dealing with sick brothers. Sick brothers who go missing, however, are a little more stressful.akaDamian denies sickness and threatens Tim's life by walking around.





	FeverBird

**Author's Note:**

> Another requested fic from my tumblr! I'm slowly working my way through. This one was requested by dawnseternallight, with the prompt "Can we stay in tonight?"
> 
> Thanks for requesting!

    Damian Wayne, currently the youngest member of the Wayne family, was possibly the worst patient in an entire family of bad patients.

 

    Dick marched down the upstairs hallway, grumbling to himself and peeking into each room as he passed. His youngest brother was  _ supposed _ to be in bed, resting. He’d come downstairs for breakfast with his hair a mess, his eyes red-rimmed and sunken-looking, mumbling in a raspy little voice, and Alfred had immediately sent him back upstairs to bed.

 

    Or at least that was what he’d been told by Tim once he’d gotten to the manor, mostly via text since the teenager had holed himself up in his bedroom the moment he heard Damian might be sick. Something about ‘germ warfare’.

 

    Dick hadn’t actually seen Damian at all yet. He’d walked into the bedroom to find the cat curled up in the warm depression in the mattress where his brother had once been, and he’d been searching ever since.

 

    He couldn’t have gone too far, Dick reasoned to himself on the way down the stairs. He wouldn’t have much cause to go anywhere else in the house besides the bathroom, unless he came downstairs to get something out of the kitchen? Or the living room? Or maybe the study?

 

    The house was mostly quiet, except for the large grandfather clock in the hall ticking serenely in the hallway, and Alfred humming to himself while he dusted the television in the living room. Dinner was cooking from the smell of things, and for a moment Dick was hopeful that Damian had simply come down to eat.

 

    Alfred glanced over his shoulder when Dick hopped to the ground over the last few stairs.

 

    “Master Richard. I wondered who it was marching all over the house like a madman. Is something the matter?”

 

    Dick sighed and scratched the back of his neck, looking around the otherwise empty room fruitlessly. “Have you seen Damian down here? I can’t find him anywhere.”

 

    “Last I knew, he was in bed resting.” Alfred sighed softly while he adjusted the positioning of some books on a shelf beside the tv. “I should have known that was too good to last. Have you checked the upstairs completely?”

 

    “That’s what all the marching was. His bed was still warm, so he can’t have been out of it for long, right?”

 

    “Right. Unfortunately when it comes to Master Damian, ‘not for long’ is just long enough for him to be just about anywhere.”

 

    Dick sighed.

  
  
  


    Damian wasn’t in the dining room, or the kitchen, or any of the other rooms Alfred and Dick searched through on the ground floor. Eventually Alfred had to get back into the kitchen to check on the food he’d left cooking, and Dick was left to his own devices in his search once again.

 

    With a sigh, he sat on the floor in the hall and leaned against the wall, staring at the ornate oriental rug beneath him. As a last-ditch effort he pulled out his phone and texted Tim.

 

    < _ Damian isn’t in your room, is he? _ >

 

    He was fairly certain that if he was, the entire house would know it by now. Tim rarely allowed his younger brother into his room at the best of times. If he discovered the boy in there now, when he was sick and filled with germs…

 

    < _ No...did you lose him? Is he loose? _ >

 

    Dick smiled bitterly at the three red siren emoji’s Tim sent to accompany his message.

 

    < _ Not lost. Just...misplaced. _ >

 

    < _ That’s not comforting at all. I’m locking my windows. _ >

 

    Shaking his head, Dick set his phone down beside him and rested his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Should he look outside, next? Damian had some rooftop hiding places that he didn’t know Dick knew about, was now the time to check those? Would he have been able to climb out to those in his current condition?

 

    He squeezed his eyes shut tight to try and force away the sudden mental images of his brother stumbling off the roof, falling to the patio or hardened dirt below. He should have checked outside earlier. What if he’d fallen, what if he was hurt and had been lying out there all this time?

 

    Just as he was getting to his feet, his phone buzzed with another text from Tim.

 

    < _ Have you checked the cave? _ >

 

    The grandfather clock began chiming.

 

 

    The cave was as dark, chilly, and silent as ever. The motion-activated lights in the stars flicked on as he walked down, temporarily smothering his hopes that his brother would be down here. He’d thought maybe he would be trying to train, or sitting at the computer.

 

    His feet hit the polished floor at the base of the staircase and he sighed loudly. A few bats high up in the ceiling squeaked as if they were agreeing.

 

    With the lights on, the computer’s massive screen blinked out of sleep mode, displaying it’s screensaver-like standby screen. Blue light washed into the shadowed areas of the main workspace of the cave, and Dick paused.

 

    There was something by the suit display cases that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something bright red.

 

    Dick hurried over and found Damian lying on his side on the small backless bench in the changing area. He was halfway changed into his Robin uniform, still wearing his cheese viking t-shirt but with his black Robin pants and one green boot on. His bright red shirt was flopped over the bench under his head, one glove held in his hand while the other laid on the floor where he’d apparently dropped it.

 

    For a moment icy panic gripped him when he first saw Damian lying there. Had he fainted? Was he getting sicker?

 

    But Damian’s side rose and fell steadily and without any sign of respiratory distress. His eyes moved just a little in his sleep.

 

    Dick knelt on the floor in front of him, shaking his head at himself for not thinking to look here sooner. Bruce was away on business. The whole reason Dick was supposed to come to the manor that night was to patrol with Damian. Of course the kid would have come down here to get ready, he didn’t take sick days.

 

    He brushed some of Damian’s hair off his forehead, feeling the feverish heat in his brother’s skin.

 

    “Damian.”

 

    A soft mumble, and Damian turned to attempt to bury his face in the sturdy leather of the bench. When it didn’t give he mumbled again and turned his head back to its original position.

 

    “Damian, you’ve gotta wake up. We’ve got to get you back upstairs, kiddo.” He shook his shoulder gently to try and rouse him.

 

    Damian’s dark eyelashes fluttered slightly, and a moment later his eyes opened just a bit. They were dull and glassy from the fever, and it seemed to take him a moment to realize where he was.

 

    “Richard?”

 

    “Hey Dames. How are you feeling?”

 

    A few tight-sounding coughs shook the boy’s body before he began struggling to sit up. “I feel...fine. I’m fine. Are you going to get ready for patrol?”

 

    His voice was muffled by a stuffed-up nose, and Dick raised his eyebrows.

 

    Damian began putting his glove on, looking around for the second. Gently, Dick rested his hands on his brother’s knees.

 

    “I don’t think patrol is happening tonight, buddy.”

 

    Damian frowned, but with his pink cheeks and vaguely dazed expression, it didn’t hold the anger it usually would. “Why not? I’m more than capable of completing patrol tonight, Grayson.”

 

    Dick was pretty sure he wasn’t capable of just walking upstairs alone, but it was pointless to try and argue with him. “I’m sure you are. But I’m not feeling too well myself.  **Can we stay in tonight** , you think?”

 

    Immediately Damian seemed to droop just a little, like he was letting himself relax just the slightest bit. For a moment, Dick expected him to argue about going on patrol alone or something in a similar vein. But, to his surprise, the small fevered boy simply set his gloves aside and nodded.

 

    “Very well.”

 

    “Are you hungry? Alfred has dinner made.” He reached out, intending to help Damian stand. Instead he slumped forward, smushing his face against Dick’s chest and letting out a sigh that turned into a cough.

 

    “Not especially.”

 

    Dick wrapped his arms around the younger boy and held him close. Damian’s forehead pressed against his neck, burning hot, while small shivers shook his small frame. “Okay, that’s fine. Why don’t you change back into your pajamas, and we’ll go back upstairs.”

 

    A small grunt against his shoulder was the only response before his brother leaned away, back into a seated position on the bench, and began unlacing his boot.

 

    Dick stood and picked up the Robin shirt, folding it to bring back to the storage cabinet.

 

    “Richard?”

 

    He paused, looking back at Damian, ready to catch him if he was about to faint, or grab for the nearby garbage can if he was going to be sick. In his current state it was hard to tell which was more likely. “Yes, Dami?”

  
    Damian let his boot hit the floor with a  _ clunk _ , before setting to work changing his pants. “You had better not get me sick.”


End file.
